


Held Close

by MayLovelies



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reborn!Verse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8345212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayLovelies/pseuds/MayLovelies
Summary: Maeglin suffers from nightmares years after his torture by Morgoth’s hand, yet luckily this time, he will not deal with them alone.





	

It was a howl in the night that shook Prince Eärendil awake, followed by the uncontrollable movement of the dark elf within his arms.

“Ma…Maeglin?” Eärendil spoke silenty at first, attempting to pull Maeglin out of his night terror. But that worked to no avail. He continued to jerk and whimper, his movements and noises growing louder with every second.

“Maeglin, open your eyes! It’s a dream—”

Certainly, the older elves eyes peeled open, but not seconds before he shoved Eärendil away with all his might. 

The blond haired elf nearly fell off of the bed, but regained himself near the edge. He didn’t care for his own safety at that moment anyway, for it was Maeglin who now concerned him.

The dark elf sat on the other side of the bed, huddled to himself. He glared at Eärendil like he was Morgoth himself, shivering and still whimpering with every moment that slowly trudged by. His sharp glance never faltered, even as Eärendil crawled towards him.

 “Maeglin…snap out of it…it’s just a dream.” Eärendil spoke, having confirmed to himself that Maeglin was reliving some type of memory. This was common in the elves he’d saved and rescued from Morgoth; they’d have awful flashbacks, as if they were still stuck in the very moment of their torture. These elves had help, but Maeglin didn’t.

Eärendil wondered why he hadn’t said anything about it earlier; why he hadn’t talked to anyone about it.

“I’m going to come closer…is that alright with you?” Eärendil, reassessing the situation, kept his distance, but held out a hand.

Maeglin said nothing, yet his breaths and whimpers became less ragged. It was as if he was falling back into reality, realizing that this was his bedroom, and not some prison filled with torture devices and never ending screams.

Still, even noticing his shift, Eärendil kept his ground. “Would you feel better coming over to me?”

Maeglin nodded, as reality registered once again.

He took his own time, crawling near Eärendil until finally he was in the stronger elf’s arms, trapped in the embrace that eventually brought him peace.

For some time, silence kept the two in a hold until Maeglin pushed away. Eärendil knew physical contact never brought him that much comfort (though this time was an exception), so he watched as he made it back to his spot in the bed, sitting idly.

“A nightmare?” The mariner spoke.

“Yes.” Replied Maeglin.

“I wasn’t aware you were still dealing with them…”

“It’s not your fault…I haven’t told anyone. I thought they’d stopped , but I was wrong I supposed.”

Eärendil frowned. “You’re still healing Maeglin. You’re bound to relapse.”

For a few moments, silence answered. Maeglin shifted a bit and crawled back towards Eärendil, resting his head in the mariner’s lap. His breaths, steadier than before resounded through the room; his eyes squeezed shut as if opening them brought him great pain.

“I’m aware. It is just tiring, to get so far only to fall down. It’s embarrassing.”

“It is nothing to be ashamed of.” Eärendil ran is fingers through the dark elf’s hair, softly pulling at strands. “And you are not falling down, you are making progress. Many thralls went through the same experience you went through, and they pressed on. You will too, it will just take some time.”

“That’s different, they’re stories are not the same as mine. I returned, and no one cared…they had the support of you and your men…I had…” _No one._ Maeglin wanted to say, but he grew silent as Eärendil hunched  down and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Well now you have me.”


End file.
